Sentimental Mood
by vandiver49
Summary: T'Pol shares her feelings about jazz...Please R


Sentimental Mood  
  
By vandiver49  
  
Disclaimer: There is no way that I could have created any of this stuff, its Gene's. Well everything except the name U.S.S Enterprise. That actually belongs to the U.S. Navy... (You know, that big aircraft carrier located on the wall in Captain Archer's stateroom.)  
  
Some caveats: I'm 100% sure that the song T'Pol heard in the jazz club was not Sentimental Mood. It only possesses minor erratic moments. That being said I wanted to find a song popular enough that Trip might have an outside chance of knowing, it's not like he's a jazz aficionado. Secondly, I can't buy into that fact that T'Pol doesn't know what a Vulcan mind meld is. Yea, it breaks the established cannon, but I'm not the one who has to explain how Starfleet goes from the saucer-nacelles configuration of NX-01 to the sphere-nacelles design of the Daedalus class starship and back again. Anyway on with the story.  
  
________________________________________  
  
The turbolift doors opened onto the dimly lit corridor as Trip made his way to his quarter. He had just completed a rather uneventful bridge watch and was looking forward to some shuteye. As he lazily turned the corner towards his quarters, he noticed an odd sound echoing through the hall. Initially, it was hard to discern where the noise was emanating from; it started and stopped erratically. As Trip walked with his ear along the bulkhead, he quickly realized that he was listening to music, jazz specifically. But he was taken aback when he reach the door that was its source; T'pol's.  
  
Trip stood in front of the door, contemplating whether or not he should even bother. This is too good to pass up, he thought to himself.  
  
As soon as he chimed the doorbell, the music stopped.  
  
Trip waited patiently before the door slid open to reveal T'Pol standing in front of him.  
  
Embarrassment would have been the emotion T'Pol felt if she indulged in such a thing. Despite her nightly meditations, she was still having dreams. They weren't as vivid or as sexually charged as when Tolaris had coaxed her into forgoing her meditations. No, her dreams were now and exercise in organization, an attempt by her mind to categorize the chaotic events the encompassed her life. T'Pol was keenly aware that she walked the precipice between two worlds and that her dreams were the mental representation of what sometimes proved to be a hopeless situation.  
  
Tonight though, she found herself conflicted with a particular piece of jazz. It used to be a repressed memory, and rightly so. That entire night proved to be a gross error in judgment and logic. Now, with Commander Tucker standing before her, T'Pol secretly wished that the whole experience never occurred.  
  
"Evening Commander, how may I help you tonight?"  
  
"Evenin' T'Pol, I didn't mean to disturb you but I was just curious as to why you were listening to jazz this late at night? I didn't even know you liked it." Trip said.  
  
T'Pol initially flirted with the idea of flatly denying his accusation, but realized that it would probably not hasten his departure.  
  
"I do not Commander; I was simply attempting to identify a jazz piece I encountered back on Earth."  
  
"Wait a minute; they let y'all listen to jazz in the Vulcan compound?" Trip was quickly proving himself to be a hindrance.  
  
"No Commander, 'they' did not," T'Pol dryly replied, "I encountered the piece while in the city."  
  
"Well, how's you're search comin'?"  
  
"Not well, I do not know the author of the piece."  
  
"Well maybe I could help, I know alittle jazz."  
  
With a look of exasperation in her eyes, T'Pol stepped back from the door, allowing Trip to enter.  
  
"So, tell me what it sounds like?" Trip asked as he followed T'Pol to her meditation area, tenuously knelt down in front of the candle.  
  
T'Pol was at a loss for words as she reciprocated Trip's action across from him. How do you describe music? She quietly pondered. "I believe the music defies an accurate description"  
  
"Well, you know.you could hum it."  
  
T'Pol quickly assessed his proposal. To hum; a process of passing air over one's vocal cords in order to render a noise that emulates the sound of music. No, T'Pol thought, she definitely was not going to hum. In fact, she refused to even dignify the question with a verbal response, choosing instead to furrow her narrow brows together.  
  
Trip quickly got the hint. "OK OK, it was worth a try," he replied, "so how do you propose I help you?"  
  
T'Pol knew of a way, but the thought of it was distressing to say the least. But she felt that resolving her dreams would provide her with long sought restful sleep. "There is another way, though it may prove to be uncomfortable for both of us."  
  
"Yea, how?" Trip figuring nothing could be that bad. Her response would prove him wrong.  
  
"By utilizing a Vulcan mind meld."  
  
Trip mind was instantly taken back to the last time a woman messed with his mind and the "compromising" predicament he was placed in.  
  
T'Pol was also a little wary of the process for her own reasons as well. When Tolaris mentally violated her, the control she sought so hard to maintain was momentarily lost. It was an experience she did not care to relive. But, sitting in the caesural of their conversation, the two realized an unspoken trust that had grown between them. For all their arguments and disagreements, they had secretly come to care for one another. Whether that concern stemmed from loyalty, friendship, duty or something more was question neither would care to address.  
  
Trip broke the awkward silence. "So, I'm not going to get pregnant doing that right?"  
  
T'Pol's response was posthaste. "No Commander, you need not worry about that. As in your culture, the female is burdened with the responsibility of child bearing." Before Trip could interject, she continued. "Besides, the thought of having a child with you is most.unsettling."  
  
Trip knew it was only a matter of time before T'Pol hurled one of her sardonic comments his way, and he was ready to play. "Not even if I was the last man on Earth?" Trip asked as he donned his most sincere face. But T'Pol was unmoved.  
  
"Not even if you were the last man on Vulcan."  
  
"So let me get this straight, you'd rather see the entire Vulcan race extinct rather than have a kid with me?" Trip had an inkling suspicion that T'Pol enjoyed their verbal jousting as much as he did. It was the only weapon he had that partially disarmed T'Pol's normally callous demeanor.  
  
"I believe such a union would have apocalyptic repercussions."  
  
Trip couldn't hold his laughter back any longer. In the moment it took for Trip to regain his composure, T'Pol was baffled at the bevy of emotions her responses elicited from Commander Tucker. Some filled him with unbridled rage while others, such as the one she just made, evoked his wonderfully jovial nature. She wondered whether or not she did this purposefully or if it was purely accidental. Before she could contemplate it further, Trip had collected himself.  
  
"I'm sorry, you know, one day you'll realize how funny you are."  
  
"I assure you Commander it was not my intention to be humorous."  
  
"I know, I know." As Trip fought to wipe the smile from his face, he wondered what it would be like to hear T'Pol laugh. His thoughts drifted to how her lips probably concealed one of the most radiant smiles in the galaxy.  
  
T'pol quickly refocused his thoughts. "Are you ready to proceed Commander?"  
  
"Yeah, we can start."  
  
"Please close your eyes."  
  
"Sure." As soon as T'Pol's visage slipped from view, Trip could feel his heart race in anticipation. He had no idea what to expect or what to do, but he was sure it would be a wild ride. When T'Pol's delicate fingers slowly crept upon his face, an electrifying chill raced through his body. At that moment he wished he had a fraction of the self-control T'Pol exhibited.  
  
"Is everything alright Commander?" T'Pol had never felt anything akin to the way Trip's body had just quaked beneath her fingertips. She desperately wanted to further explore what just transpired, but logically decided to remain focused on the task at hand.  
  
"Yeah T'Pol I'm fine, keep going."  
  
"Are minds are slowly becoming one, Commander. Your thoughts to my thoughts; my thoughts to your thoughts."  
  
Slowly, the black expanse that shrouded Trip's eyes began to unveil the settling of T'Pol's dream. He found himself sitting at a wooden table, considerably worn from years of use. A meandering haze filled the dimly lit room. Across from him to sat T'Pol, wearing what appeared to be a bodysuit that covered her form from head to toe. There was even a headpiece that adorned her crown in such a way as to conceal her ears.  
  
"So where are we?"  
  
"Literally we are inside my mind. This place is a jazz club located outside of the Vulcan compound."  
  
"I thought that you weren't allowed to leave the compound at night, or alone."  
  
"We were not, but I felt compelled to.explore the world we chose to isolate ourselves from."  
  
"Is that why you chose to stay on Enterprise after we dropped the Klingon off? So you could indulge in your exploration of humanity without the watchful eyes of the Vulcan High Command?" Trip was trying to bait T'Pol, but she refused to be rattled.  
  
"No Commander, the path I taken is a result of the fact that I have proven to be a competent scientist. Is this an inquisition or do you intend on helping me?"  
  
Trip turned his focus from T'Pol to the performers on the small stage. The melodic intonations of a piano started the song off. There was a distinct legato in those first few bars before being interceded by the wails of the saxophone. After a few bars Trip began to smile and hum along in unison.  
  
"Are you familiar with the song Commander?" T'Pol asked well aware of the answer.  
  
"Yea, you would go and pick a classic wouldn't you?" Trip slowly began tapping his feet to the beat. "The name of the song is 'Sentimental Mood' by John Coltrane and Duke Ellington, two jazz greats." Trip watched as T'Pol actively committed the song to memory.  
  
"So, you were sitting here, listening to this, what were you feeling?"  
  
This was a question T'Pol didn't want to answer. Not because she didn't have one, just that the answer was illogical.  
  
"In hindsight I felt that song captured all that was wrong with this night."  
  
"Why, what was wrong with this night?" Trip asked in confusion.  
  
To this, T'Pol had no response. She instead dwelled on the haunting familiarity of Trip's question. It was the same question Tolaris had asked. She tired not to recall the events of that invasive day, but the panic and fear that gripped her then was suddenly reasserting itself.  
  
Across the table, Trip was studying T'Pol's countenance with some degree of concern. While her face remained emotionless as ever, her eyes conveyed a different story. They communicated an unmistakable sense of fear, puzzling Trip. T'Pol wasn't afraid of anything, at least not to his knowledge.  
  
"T'Pol, is something wrong?"  
  
Trip's question barely captured the gravity of the situation. She was losing control; it was as if the walls in her mind were collapsing upon her. She was becoming gripped by the very emotions she constantly fought to repress. T'Pol needed to several the mind meld before her condition became exasperated.  
  
"T'Pol, what's going on? Are you..." before Trip could finish his question, he was rocked with a mental shock that transported him back to reality. He looked across for him and saw T'Pol, whom didn't appear visibly shaken by the event, but he knew otherwise.  
  
"Hey, are you OK?"  
  
T'Pol slowly fought to regain control of her faculties. "I am fine Commander." While this wasn't completely true, it was the only answer she was willing to concede.  
  
Trip saw right through her deception. "You know T'Pol, you're a horrible liar."  
  
"Be that as it may Commander, your concern, while admirable, is unwarranted." Though his comment was completely accurate, T'Pol's sole thought was finding a way to get Trip out of her quarters. She found herself mentally drained by what should have been a relatively simple procedure and required privacy so she could recover.  
  
Trip suddenly got the distinct feeling that he'd overstayed his welcome. "Well if you insist that you're fine I think I'm gonna be on my way. I hope you find the song in the ship's database." He said as he got up and walked toward the door.  
  
To, T'Pol, it was as if he had read her mind. "Your assistance has been most appreciated Commander." T'Pol said as she rose to escort him out.  
  
As Trip opened the door to exit, he turned around and found himself face to face with T'Pol. He tried to study her eyes, looking for any semblance of the emotion he had witnessed earlier.  
  
Trip's smoldering gaze caught T'Pol off guard. She found herself momentarily lost in his deep blue eyes. "What are you looking at Commander?" She said as she attempted to avert his stare.  
  
"You know, they say that the eyes are the windows to the soul. I was just seeing if it was true."  
  
"That is quite illogical Commander. There is no such thing as a soul."  
  
"Yea T'Pol, I guess you're right. Well goodnight." And with that, Trip turned and walked out.  
  
As soon as her door closed, T'Pol breathed what could only be described as a sigh of relief. Commander Tucker had proven himself to be insufferable once again. Logic dictates she maintain a strictly professional relationship with him. But no matter how hard she tries to distance herself from him, she found herself gravitating towards him inexplicably. She slowly walked to the bathroom, wondering why she shied away from his gaze. T'Pol recalled that his most menacing glare did nothing to assuage her conviction, but Trip had never looked at her like that before. And she was at a loss to quantify it. As the light cut on in the bathroom, T'Pol was captured by her reflection. Staring in silence at the mirror, she attempted to find what Trip was searching for in her eyes.  
  
Finis 


End file.
